Eight Hours
by Racharuchan
Summary: A story about Yomi's attempt to break Kurama in hopes of making him more loyal. Set in the Three Kings Arc. Projected 8 chapters   only ended up being 6  , rated M for a reason ladies and gents. More for mental abuse than graphic-ness.
1. Hour 1

Kurama hit the ground with a thud as the wind was knocked from him by the impact. He grunted, looking over his shoulder at the guard that had shoved him into the room unceremoniously. He glared, but there was little he could do with his arms bound behind his back.

"Yomi will be in to speak with you shortly, human," the guard stated gruffly.

Kurama got onto his knees and sat up, resting his back against the wall. Cold stone and a dark room, not Yomi's usual style, but after what the two of them had been through he should've known that normal wouldn't be expected. Yomi had said he'd forgiven him for the betrayal of long ago. He'd secured Kurama's help, albeit through a betrayal of his own.

The reasons for this cell and the bindings was beyond him at this point. All he could do now was wait for Yomi to come in and enlighten him.

Sniffing the air he struggled to his feet. The aroma was odd, foreign. He couldn't place it, but he understood the effects it was having on him. In the dark room it was impossible to tell if it stayed close to the ground or not. Since he'd been low when he caught whiff of it he hoped that standing would put him above the fog.

His legs trembled as he fought to keep himself standing. He already felt dizzy, and his muscles were tired. He couldn't muster up enough of his spiritual power to free himself, and there wasn't anything he could manipulate close enough for him to utilize it.

The strength left his legs and he slid down to his knees, breathing heavily as he struggled to keep his body off the floor. The aroma left as his vision began to blur, but he didn't need to see to know who had stepped into his cell.

"Yomi… why?"

"Call it… the winner's spoils," Yomi replied quietly. "You kept yourself out of the reach of many people, Kurama. Always knowing that there were those who lusted after you."

The blind demon stepped closer to him, "looking" down at the red head who was still struggling to stay upright. He loved the aura coming off his old leader. There was uncertainity, fear, and apprehension - things he'd never felt come from him before. But maybe they had always been there, he just hadn't had the capability to detect them.

"Your demon form is… educated, and very talented. I don't want to take my reward from the side of you that has already experienced such intimacy."

Kurama couldn't hide his fear as Yomi's hand slid under his chin, tilting his head up and helping to keep him upright. His human body was innocent, and while he knew and understood the things that demons and humans did behind closed doors, his human body wasn't accustomed to it. Accustomed wasn't even the right word, his human body might not be able to stand up to whatever Yomi had in store for him.

"Don't fear, Kurama, I won't break your frail human body," Yomi promised, lifting Kurama's trembling body in his arms. "I won't break it, but I shall learn what your human form can endure."

"Yomi… you… bastard," Kurama growled.

"Resign yourself, my friend. It'll be easier that way."

Kurama's body shivered as he tried to will his body to react. He lacked the strength or the spirit energy, he wasn't sure which, his mind was too foggy. He felt Yomi lay him down on something soft. His shirt was slowly removed and despite his groggy head and weakness he was acutely aware of the cool air on his skin.

His sense of touch was enhanced by the fog. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he felt Yomi's fingers at the waist of his pants.

"An… aphrodisiac?"

"Hm?" Yomi inquired and then smiled his unassuming smile. "Ah, you're referring to the mist from earlier. Yes, it has various elements to it. Between the two of us all elements will be enjoyed," he assured him, brushing his lips against the crux of Kurama's neck.

Kurama's body tensed, and he bit his lower lip to keep himself quiet. Yomi's fingers trailed over his skin, digging his nails in and leaving lines of red irritation along the lines of his skin. There was skill in the old demon's hands, skill that Kurama recognized, but one that his human body had no defense against.

Especially as ensorcelled as he was in the drug's effects. He pulled his arms, struggling to at least free himself from that which bound him. Not that being free would help him much, he lacked the strength to stop Yomi from doing as he pleased. The added feeling of being trapped by the ropes just made it worse.

"Relax Kurama, and accept your fate," Yomi purred using his mouth on the youth's chest as he let his hands wander lower. The warm tongue and soft lips licked and traced along the parts of his body that seemed the most sensitive. He'd never been intimate with Yomi, even back in the days before he became fused with his human body, so he couldn't understand how the male knew his weaknesses so well.

Kurama couldn't hold back the hiss of pleasure that escaped him as Yomi's fingers trailed along the ridge of what was making his pants tight. Yomi smiled softly, redoubling his efforts. He pressed his fingers against the fabric with more force, sliding errant fingers along the flesh that connected his legs to his torso. His teeth nipped at his flesh, bringing forth no pain at all, but sending pleasure through his body that made him quake.

"My dear Kurama, you will beg me before this night is over," Yomi murmured in his ear, biting at the bottom of his lobe and trailing his tongue down the human's neck.

"Never," Kurama insisted, his body twisting in forced pleasure. He tried to keep his voice steady, but he knew that the quaver of pleasure had made its way out. "Even as I am… I've more will than that Yomi."

"So you say, and normally I'd be inclined to not only agree with you, but believe you my friend," the elder demon replied, biting down on the tender flesh on his shoulder gently enough to avoid causing him pain. "But that mist will break your human resistance."

Sweat broke out on Kurama's face as Yomi's ministrations continued. His toes curled and his fingers clenched, he could only feel Yomi's fingers and lips, his mind could only register pleasure. He writhed and squirmed under the demon's care, moans of pleasure tearing from his mouth against his will. Even digging his nails into his palms couldn't hold back the tsunami of sensations pummeling him.

Minutes, hours, he lost track of time as his resistance was whittled slowly away. He could feel his body betraying him, even as he fought against the surging feeling.

"Yomi… stop…" Kurama growled. He twisted and struggled, trying to turn himself over, to protect his more vulnerable areas.

"Ah, ah, ah, Kurama," Yomi admonished. He held Kurama's shoulders into place, leaning down and devouring the red head's stiff flesh into his mouth.

Kurama screamed, nearly releasing himself into Yomi's mouth. The demon halted, and ground his knuckle into Kurama's thigh. Replacing the sharp pleasure with pain and keeping him from finishing. The human sank into the bedding, panting heavily and trembling from the lingering pleasure and throbbing pain.

"You need to beg before I will allow you release."

"Never…" He insisted, no longer having the energy to even tug at his bindings.

Yomi smiled. "This is only the first hour of our night together Kurama. Do you think you can survive the next seven my friend?"


	2. Hour 2

"Well rested, I hope?" Yomi inquired, stepping toward the panting form lying on the bed.

"After only a few minutes, hardly," he replied, trying to kept the sheer exhaustion out of his voice.

Yomi smiled knowingly. "Stalling for time will do you no good, my friend. The effects of that mist will not evaporate until the sun returns to the sky. We have the entire night together."

Kurama shifted himself, covering his naked form as well as he could with his hands still tied behind his back. He knew the only reason Yomi had kept him bound was for the mental damage it would cause. He could only keep his wits for so long. Between the waves of physical pleasure he knew were on the horizon and the mental battle he would break.

It was a matter of time. Either he would break, or Yomi's mist would wear off. The room was pitch black, and the trapped human was every bit as blind as the demon. More so, since none of his other senses were heightened to compensate for the loss.

He felt strong hands force him onto his stomach. He tried to struggle, tried to at least keep himself in the position he wanted to be in, but pain tore through him and his breath caught from a quick jab in his lower back. It stunned him, making him compliant long enough for Yomi to place his knees between Kurama's legs and tie more rope to the bindings around his arms.

Now, not only was he on his stomach, with his backside exposed to Yomi, but he was tied down to the bed and unable to turn himself back over.

"I couldn't fight against you as I was. Why this?"

"Controlling your fate completely… making you helpless toward what I will do to you… is satisfaction in and of itself," Yomi replied taking his tongue slowly up the back of Kurama's leg.

Kurama bit his lip, letting a small trickle of blood slip down his chin. He tried to send his mind away, tried to separate the core of his soul away to keep it safe, but Yomi was too talented. His tongue made the parts of Kurama's body that he had never believed were so sensitive, alight with fire.

He couldn't even hide the amount of pleasure that was wracking his body from Yomi. Grunts and moans escaped his mouth no matter how tightly he tried to keep it shut. The ropes that held him fast were strained, groaning under the tension of his human struggles.

He felt Yomi's tongue practically assault his body, avoiding all the areas that Kurama expected the demon to focus on. Yomi's tongue trailed along his calves, leaving lines of saliva across the crevice of the back of his knees. It traced along the lines of his shoulder blades, down the back of his arms.

The places he assailed and the amount of time he spent on them seemed random. Kurama felt his flesh stiffen, pressing against the mattress of the bedding he was on. He couldn't hold still, no matter how much he tried, causing the fabric to create friction against his sensitive skin.

The sickly sweet feeling of pleasure swirled in his stomach, making his skin even weaker to Yomi's attention. Clawed fingers added to the feeling of his tongue, leaving thin red lines along his pale flesh, raising them and leaving them heated - without drawing blood.

"I can hear your muscles tighten Kurama," Yomi murmured, just loud enough to be heard. "Your heart beats faster and the blood flows through you in a certain way. You can't quietly finish into the sheets, I'll stop you before then."

Kurama grunted and then cried in surprise and pain as Yomi's claws pierced his flesh, digging into the meaty part of his thigh. The searing pain fought with his pleasure-soaked mind. Warm blood trickled from the wounds down his legs, eerily similar to the feel of Yomi's wet tongue.

"I will keep you riding the edge of pleasure and pain for as long as I can, my friend," Yomi promised. "And when it takes but a touch to push you over the edge, I shall let you rest."

The demon kept his word, and pummeled Kurama's body with pleasure and pain mercilessly. Bright bruises and lines of blood painted the human's flesh, mixing and overlapping with the pleasurable feelings. Kurama's mind went blank, his body's desires overtaking everything else. He couldn't beg for Yomi to stop, he couldn't beg for him to continue, he couldn't even dream of demanding for his next breath.

All his body wanted was the sensations, the feelings. The pain, the pleasure, the attention. His most primal instincts wracked his body, taking away the desire for control and love. He was filled with lust and passion and his world was nothing but feelings and flesh.

Peel it from him, keep it on him. Warmth, coldness, tenderness and pain. He didn't care. He didn't care. He…

His green eyes flashed as he felt himself nearing climax. He wanted it, he truly did. He couldn't deny his deep instinctual desires. They were there, but they would remained locked away. At least, for now.

What the next hour may bring, he couldn't say, but his pride had won out over his desires. He panted, trapped on his stomach against the mattress. His body shuddered from pleasure and pain, riding the edge of enduring both. Blood trailed lines along the curves of his muscles and bones, his hair stuck to his face and shoulders from the sweat that stung his superficial wounds.

There was no disappointment radiating from Yomi as he slowly healed Kurama's body, and left for a moment to rest. The human knew why - he'd almost caved. Two hours into their little soirée, and already his crumbling.


	3. Hour 3

Sweat covered his body, cooling his flesh even as his muscles burned from exhaustion. His hair was matted to his face and laid heavily against his shoulders. He wanted to move it away, to allow the sweat on his neck to cool his head, but with his arms still bound there was little he could do.

At least he wasn't on his stomach anymore, and his eyes were starting to adjust to the seemingly pitch black of the room. He couldn't make out specifics yet, but at least he could see the darker silhouette of Yomi as he entered the room quietly.

He didn't fight against Yomi as the demon silently tied his ankles to either side of the bed, he didn't question what was coming next when a rolled up blanket was placed under his hips. The position was slightly uncomfortable, forcing his pelvis up and taking the pressure off his bound hands and wrists. Pins and needles assaulted his arms and fingers as the blood rushed back into those parts of his body.

He felt the demon's tongue trail up the inside of his leg. He couldn't waste energy trying to hold his head up to see things that were more clearly felt. He took a deep breath and tried to block out the sensation of the warm, wet tongue that assailed him so delicately. It found the sensitive places of his legs, the side of his knee, the tender line of his calf, and the weak inner muscle of his thigh.

Kurama could feel himself hardening, he couldn't escape as well as he would have liked.

"Why… Yomi?" Kurama inquired, trying to focus his thoughts enough to force the yokai to answer him and halt his attack for at least a moment. "Why are you so set on this?"

"We've been over this Kurama," Yomi replied quietly digging his nails deep into the back of Kurama's thighs, eliciting a hiss of pain from the red head. "You've always kept a calm control of things. Always planning steps ahead of your adversaries. Never once have you needed to beg for release or reprieve, and even if it meant your life on the battlefield you would never stoop so low."

Yomi smiled as he pinched and twisted the tender flesh by Kurama's stiff length, pulling a growl of pain from his captive. "Just once I'd like the mighty Yoko Kurama kneel."

The painful assault was quickly replaced by the tight, wet, warmth of Yomi's mouth around his flesh. Even as the pain lingered in his flesh the pleasure flooded over it. Yomi's nailed shallowly pierced random places on Kurama's body as his mouth worked wonders that the trapped fox was almost certain Yomi'd seen him use in the past.

He was certain he could hold out, he'd gotten his second wind. But when something hard and wet pressed against the tight muscles of his ass he wasn't so sure of himself. There were a lot of things he could shut out of his mind, but this was a violation he'd never endured - in his past or present lives.

"No, Yomi," he gasped, desperation replacing the understanding that he should have kept his mouth shut. His words had been barely audible, practically mouthed into the darkness, but Yomi's hearing caught the musical gasp easily.

"Fear not, old friend, this won't hurt at all," Yomi purred.

The hard object wasn't cold, but wasn't warm enough to be alive, which was an odd relief in the back of Kurama's mind. It twisted and pressed, twirled and slid against his entrance, leaving slickness in its wake and sending strange sensations through his body. He was disgusted, but at the same time - like Yomi's oral ministrations - he couldn't deny the pleasure that was building from it.

Control was what Yomi wanted to take from him, and all it did was make his desire to maintain it all that much stronger. The object threatened to penetrate him, threatened to bring him pleasures he had never experienced and therefore had little ability to defend against.

The assault doubled. Yomi's mouth wrapped around his flesh again, as the object seemed to try with even more fervor to entice his muscles to relax and allow it gentle passage into his body. Kurama couldn't fight it any longer. He wouldn't beg, he refused, but he couldn't struggle against the pleasure. He couldn't block it out and he was too tired to struggle anymore.

He relaxed his body, melting into place bound to the bed as he was. Pleasure washed over him, and this time he allowed himself to enjoy it, to soak it all in. The object slid past his entrance and began to massage itself inside him. It hit a bundle of nerves he didn't even know existed and caused him to let a strangled cry of pleasure pass his lips.

Sensations roiled in the pit of his stomach, reaching out their hands to all other parts of his body. He didn't think about finishing he didn't concern himself with the prospect of release, he simply enjoyed the pleasure that he was being bathed in.

His cries of pleasure were nothing coherent, nothing with any solid meaning. He let his mind mingle the pleasure into situations more comfortable to him. Like, being back home on Earth, and perhaps just having one of this exotic girlfriends he'd heard his classmates mention. It wasn't something he imagined himself actually stepping into, but the illusion of it at least being somewhat voluntary eased the disgust.

Pleasure was ripped from him like a part of his soul. The searing pain that started at his groin and spread through his body tightened all his muscles, and pulled a scream from him of almost inhuman proportions. His body pulled at his bindings so viscously, that small trails of blood slid along his skin.

As the pain subsided, Kurama slumped into the bedding, panting and shuddering against the lingering pain. The source of the electricity was a mystery to him, and his vision was far to spotty to even make out Yomi's form in the room. He was almost delirious, frantically trying to access enough of his spiritual energy to keep from succumbing to pain.

His mind didn't register whatever Yomi had said to him. He didn't fully grasp that he'd been left alone in that room with only the pain to keep him company. He wanted to curl into a ball, to weep like a child against such persistent suffering, but his will was stronger than that. He lay motionless on the mattress, the only sign of life was the slow even movement of his chest as he drew breath.

Someway, somehow, he'd survived another hour. Yomi would let him rest enough that the pain would evaporate. But the fatigue, the soreness of his body, would still be there when the demon returned.

A small voice in the back of his mind questioned: Was this worth it? Wouldn't it be simpler to just acquiesce and release his pleasure from his body?

After all, his plan was to keep Yomi from bringing his visions of Demon World Unification about. He could at least give his old comrade one pleasure before pulling his life long ambition out from under him.


	4. Hour 4

Yomi entered the room, only to find Kurama sitting stiff backed on the edge of the bed. A deep growl from the demon was all the warning Kurama had. He let his body go as limp as possible as the blind man attacked him.

The first blow knocked him from the bed, sending him to the floor. Other blows followed, pushing deep into his body, assailing his lower back and sides, pushing the air from his body. He gasped, trying to grab onto precious breaths even as more vicious blows forced the air from his lungs.

Pain tore through his insides as Yomi forced himself deep inside Kurama's body. The blows continued, though they're ferocity subsided a bit as Yomi's stiff flesh tore the tender skin of the helpless human. Kurama screamed, he'd felt pain, but the added sense of such violation seemed to make it all that more acute.

Even in the best of situations a human's body would have little chance to keep pace with a demon's. A demon in love with a human would have to go through extra pains to keep from ripping their beloved lover, or from taking them beyond the brink of exhaustion.

The only care that Yomi was taking was in making sure that Kurama survived that much longer to experience that much more pain. He'd seen his old second in command lose his temper before, though the worst was recently, when faced with the bounty hunter. Yomi, apparently, hadn't mastered the level of calm and collected that he'd desired, to have lost his temper yet again.

Spots exploded in front of his eyes, his mind, his world, reeled. He felt as though he was about to die - devoid of his spiritual power, unable to move. Yomi's violent physical assault seemed to be renewed as he pumped in and out of Kurama mercilessly. This was not the death he pictured for himself, in this world or the human one. This was not a death of honor, or glory, or even a noble death to save the lives of his friends. This was meaningless.

Yomi must've felt the same way. Breathing heavily he stopped his assault, putting a strand of hair back into place as he straightened. He turned and stepped out of the room without a word, his robes and demeanor in place as though nothing had happened during his visit within the cell.

Laying on the floor, drowning in pain as it lay over top that which he hadn't fully recovered from to begin with, Kurama realized his error. Yomi hadn't wanted him to give his body to him willingly. He'd wanted him to break, to beg for something that he didn't really want.

And while he didn't want to give himself to Yomi, he'd made it something that was more on his own terms. Something that, regardless of what was transpiring, Kurama was still in control. Still only doing that which he had consciously decided to do. He'd hope his acquiescing to the situation would be a suitable compromise.

Obviously, he'd hoped incorrectly.

Laying on the floor, wondering if anyone would come in to heal him, or if he'd be left to breathe his last breath cold and naked on the pitch black floor of a prison cell, he let his mind drift. He needed to be able to survive this. He needed to set things in motion to keep Yomi from bringing about his unification. He needed more than his pride…


	5. Hour 5 and 6

Halfway through it. More than. He'd made it this far, the rest should be easy. The rest should fall into place like pieces of a puzzle made for a child. But the next three hours would be long, he knew it, and so did Yomi.

His wounds had been healed, far more meticulously than he liked. His binds had been removed and he'd been given food to eat. He eyed the tray suspiciously for some time, unsure if his former ally would resort to more drugs. Such a move would be foolish, the drug coursing through his veins right now was powerful, if not for his own devilishly strong will he would've succumb long ago.

Adding more to his weakened human form could be fatal, and Kurama's death wasn't what Yomi wanted. It might be an outcome he could be pushed too, but Kurama didn't want his death either. He needed to survive, and despite his doubts about the food that had been left for him, he wasn't going to survive if he didn't eat. Still though, the chances that Yomi would use the weakness of hunger against him were pretty high. What, exactly the dubious demon had slipped into his meal was anyone's guess.

It really could be poison, assuming he'd upset Yomi that badly early. The blind demon had nearly killed him in his fit of rage. Hoping that time had calmed his anger could be deadly. But not having the strength to fight back should the opportunity present itself could turn fatal as well. Yomi had placed his between a rock and a plate full of delicious food.

Deciding all his pondering would only result in missing a perfectly good meal, he ate. Slowly at first, tensing his body for any reactions toward the food, ready to toss it aside at the first, additional, abnormality.

Yomi entered and Kurama stood up before him. The human stood without defiance, but without shame as well. Even naked as he was his demeanor was calm, as though he was still wearing the clothes Yomi had given him upon his arrival.

Yomi moved swiftly, pressing Kurama's body against the cold stone. A small gasp of surprised escaped the red head's lips as his skin hit the cold stone before his mind had registered moving. Yomi turned him around, and Kurama didn't struggle, pressing his former comrade's chest against the stone and locking his wrists over his head.

Yomi's hands moved over his flesh, sending extra chills through his body. After the pain the demon had inflicted on him this change of pace was hard to brace against. Yomi's absolute silence was a little unnerving as well, Kurama couldn't even hear his breath.

He felt the cloth go over his eyes, blocking what little sight he had in the dark cell completely. The feeling of fingers against his flesh stopped. For a long while there was nothing. Kurama's arms began to ache, with nothing happening to distract him from the throbbing, his body on edge wondering when Yomi would strike.

He heard nothing, but rather sensed the presence of something entering his cell. Several somethings.

"Who's there?" He questioned, trying to force any sense of demand out of his voice. A sharp pain in his leg was his reply. Message received loud and clear - he was to keep his trap shut.

The wound on his leg was healed almost immediately. It was pain they wanted to inflict, not anything permanent. That wasn't a pleasant thought, and actually turned out to be completely incorrect.

Cool lubricant coated his thighs, slowly being worked over his entire body. More hands than his mind could keep track of teased his flesh. They prodded his most sensitive places as tongues were added to the countless fingers. He didn't know he had enough flesh to have so much sensation pumped into it.

Fingers slid deep into his body, causing him no pain at all. Hands worked his stiff flesh, licked along tender areas on his legs, traced line down the soft parts of his back. His mind went hazy as his assailants seemed to have no intention of stopping. He kept waiting for the flash of pain, for the order to stop, to be administered just before he could reach sweet release.

He felt the wave of pleasure tear through his body almost painfully as he came against the wall. His cry of pleasure was almost one of fear, concerned with the punishment that might await him, or the poor sods who were doing this to him. Not that he had much sympathy for them overall, but they had allowed him to do the one thing Yomi had been denying him ever since he was put in this room.

No punishment came. No pain tore at his flesh or electrified his muscles. There was nothing at all except the continued ministrations of his new cellmates.

They licked and suckled. They touched, traced and teased. He couldn't escape them, couldn't fight them off. The only time they brought him pain was when he asked them to stop. Sounds of pleasure were encouraged, sounds of anything else were met with pain. The more he begged, the stronger the pain. But always, always would they heal him completely afterward. No pain lingered with the pleasure. They weren't going to give him anything to focus on except the continued pleasure.

Again and again he came, pressed against the wall and able to feel his own seed slide down his body, no doubt following the deep grooves of the stones. He'd lost count of how many times they'd forced a release from him. His muscles were tired an his body was shuddering. He was beginning to fear they were going to molest him to death.

His binds were undone and he was allowed to rest by laying on the floor. The creatures that were "attending" him did not stop their assault. He didn't have the strength to stop them, he didn't have the voice to beg. He could only hope that when he passed out in exhaustion they wouldn't kill him.

The drug in his system seemed to react to the sensations, making him more and more sensitive. His body was warming the lubrication and even the usually cold stones felt warmer. Hands held his legs apart, mouths sucked and licked his fingers, nibbled his ears. Vaguely he realized the stones hadn't gotten warmer, he was simply laying atop another living being.

He never thought he would be made to fear the sensation of an orgasm, but after the passage of more time than he could comprehend he was fearing his nearing climax. How many times? How hard? It felt wonderful, almost heavenly, but it was draining his strength, his will. He couldn't think, couldn't move on his own. He was drowning in a sensation that could tear his body apart. Yomi had changed his tactics. If denying him wouldn't work, if pain wouldn't work, then there was at least on more thing he could do the red head to break him.

His whispered for them to stop, screamed in his mind for them to cease, he didn't want to climax again. He didn't want to lose his sanity to pleasures of the flesh.

He didn't want to. He didn't. He… he….

Kurama screamed his pleasure to the heavens, grasping whatever beast was nearest him as though they were a life preserver afloat in an endless ocean. The pleasure didn't subside, he wasn't sure he actually stopped orgasming as darkness overtook even his thoughts…


	6. Hour 7 Finale

Chapter 7

Kurama laid on the floor of his cell covered sweat and other fluids. His red hair was matted against his face, and clung to his back almost like a second skin. Bright red marks marred the porcelain skin, old bruises and wounds laid below the marks.

Slowly, almost invisible to the naked eye, his back rose and fell steadily. His breathing was shallow, but it wasn't irregular. Yomi stood in the doorway, looking down on his old friend quietly. Given the events of the last few hours, the demon's face was devoid of emotion.

Kurama's eyes opened slowly. He winced slightly against the pain of his sore muscles having laid against the cold stone for the last hour. He moved himself slowly, careful not to bring himself more pain than he had already endured. When he finally looked up at his old friend standing in the doorway a hint of emotion flashed on the old demon's face.

A slight twitch of agitation that most people wouldn't pick up on.

Inwardly, Kurama smiled. Outwardly, he stood before his old friend with a stoic expression on his face. They stood there, for long silent moments. Much was said, much was expressed, in the end, Kurama bowed deeply.

"I can not pretend to be something I am not," he stated quietly.

"No, my old friend… you cannot," Yomi acquiesced. The elder demon turned away from his old friend and left the cell.

The wide open door kept silent watch over Kurama as he clothed himself. Rags, really, at this point, but enough for him to make his way out of the cell. Clothes were waiting for him beside a warm bath in a room where no one would bother him - not even Yomi.

The point had been made, and now the board was laid out differently. Kurama would not follow, nor would he lead. The path he walked would be his own, and every step he took would be his. No one, not Yomi, Yusuke, Hiei, or anyone else would ever be a position to force him to do that which he did not want to do.

Holding no ill-will toward Yomi and having no intentions of changing his own plans, Kurama stepped from the bathroom refreshed, and well-dressed.

He would do what he felt he had to. And accept the consequences of his actions regardless of the outcome.

Maybe, just maybe, this would allow him to atone as he wished.

**~ Fin**


End file.
